


Encore

by Carbynn



Series: Royed Week 2018 [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Ed Can't Sit Still, M/M, Roy Just Wants To See The Show Okay, Semi-Public Sex, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 11:18:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15773055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carbynn/pseuds/Carbynn
Summary: In retrospect, bringing Ed to an opera he can’t even understand was probably not the best idea Roy’s ever had.





	Encore

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4: Beginnings/Endings
> 
> I wanted so hard not to write angst for this prompt that I wrote porn instead.

When Ed had finally agreed to accompany Roy to the theater, Roy had been thrilled. He knows that Ed isn’t overly fond of theater in general, mostly because he has trouble sitting still outside of a library, but Roy loves losing himself in a story and it had meant the world to him that Ed would be willing to subject himself to hours of boredom just to make him happy.

Now though, Roy is somewhat reconsidering his invitation.

The entr’acte has barely even faded into the first song when Ed starts to squirm, and it’s infinitely distracting. Ed himself is, as a general rule, Roy’s most appealing distraction, but he can barely even focus on the music over the soft brush of the material of Ed’s pants against the seat cushion and the creak of the chair as he twists in it like it’s made of concrete instead of plush velvet and stuffing. It’s a good thing Roy pays to maintain a private box, or else they’d certainly be asked to leave.

Ed huffs a loud sigh and crosses - then uncrosses - his legs, letting his automail heel thud against the ground, interrupting a very beautifully done high note, and Roy’s had enough.

“Edward,” he says quietly, leaning over to whisper into the ear of the object of his ever-burning, ardent desire and the most iresome person he’d ever met in his entire life. “Do you need to step outside?”

“I’m fine,” Ed says, twitching again. “But you know I don’t speak Aerguan, right?”

“Most opera is in Aerugan. You don’t have to understand the words to understand the emotions.”

The quiet groan Ed hisses out sounds like his entire soul has detached from his body. “I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

“I know,” Roy murmurs, brushing his fingers against the curve of Ed’s jaw. “I do appreciate it.”

Ed seems to calm a little with the contact. Probably, it gives him something to focus on outside of his abject boredom since he seems to be unable to focus on the show. In retrospect, bringing Ed to an opera he can’t even understand was probably not the best idea Roy’s ever had.

The idea he’s coming up with now might just make up for it.

“I think I might be able to make the evening a little bit more enjoyable for the both of us,” Roy purrs. “But you have to be very, very quiet.”

“What do you me— _Oh, fuck._ ”

There are benefits to having a private box. Roy never has to worry about missing a sold-out show with the box always reserved for him, and the view is beyond incredible considering the proximity to the stage.  The acoustics are better, too, than some of the floor seats, and Roy hates having to strain his ear. By far the biggest benefit, though, is the ability to press his hand between Ed’s legs without fear of discovery.

Ed’s thighs part immediately, and Roy sets to work on the fly of his pants. He gets his hand around his cock in record time, and Ed presses the flat of his hand against his mouth to keep from crying out.

Ed’s distraction taken care of, Roy turns his attention back to the show. The music really is beautiful, and it’s not difficult to sync the rhythm of his hand to the rhythm of the instrumentals, making sure that Ed, even if he’s not paying attention, gets the full effect of the highs and lows of the emotion.

He can barely hear the quiet whimpers escaping from behind Ed’s hand and he can tell that he’s getting close, and Roy rubs the pad of his thumb over the leaking head of Ed’s cock _just so._ He can play him as easily as the musicians play their instruments, and Roy knows exactly how to push him over. It’s early in the show still, but Roy’s confident that if this orgasm doesn’t knock Ed into calm, then he can easily bring him off at least once more before the finale. Ed’s young, after all. He can manage.

The first splash of damp hits his hand and Roy’s sure Ed’s biting down on his hand to keep quiet, because as far as Roy knows, this is the first silent orgasm he’s ever experienced. Roy manages to catch most of his release (the stains on Ed’s pants would be both very obvious and a pain to have to scrub out later,) and wipes himself clean with his handkerchief as Ed, splayed back against the chair, pants and tries to recompose himself.

Roy’s work buys him peace through to the intermission. Ed’s still mostly boneless, but he’s rapidly regaining his composure and he’s beginning to move around again. He turns in his seat so that he’s facing Roy and reaches out to curl his fingers around the collar of his shirt and drag him in for a kiss.

It’s heated and heavy, and Roy has to regain some semblance of control over himself before things go too far. He draws away, much to Ed’s discontent, and brushes a few golden hairs back off of his smooth forehead.

“I hope you’re ready for act two,” Roy murmurs.

“How many acts are there? Aren’t operas long as fuck?”

“This is a short one, I’m afraid. I didn’t want to burden you with anything longer than that.”

Ed starts to answer, but the lights dim and the music starts up again before he can get a word out.

Roy waits for the deafening blast of the brass section to die down before leaning over again to wrap his fingers around Ed’s wrist and whisper into the shell of his ear, commanding him to stand up. It’s clear that Ed’s confused but he complies, and Roy guides him over to settle in his lap.

Roy doesn’t do anything yet apart from hooking his chin over Ed’s shoulder so that he can see the stage and wrapping his arms around his middle, waiting for Ed’s boredom, yet again, to get the best of him. The warm weight of him is glorious, and Roy’d be content to sit like this for the rest of the show even without the bonus of being able to shove his hand down his pants.

Because entropy exists, and Ed’s attention span for mostly anything not related to alchemy is sparse, he begins to get antsy again as the show progresses. The shifting is a lot more distracting now that Ed’s sitting on his lap, a fact that he foolishly did not consider when taking relocation into account. Without taking his eyes off of the stage, he kisses Ed’s throat and plunges his fingers back under the waistline of Ed’s pants.

Ed’s hand flies back up to cover his mouth as soon as Roy’s fingers close around him, and he strokes him long and slow, not bothering to keep up with the music this time. He’s going to drag this out for as long as possible, because the show’s nearly over and Roy doesn’t want to miss the ending.

Ed’s writhing on his lap is working him into a frenzy too, but he’s nothing if not a master of control and he does his best to mask his own need in favor of tending to Ed’s and to the performance. He’s not actually sure he’ll manage to stave off Ed’s orgasm until the end of the show, not with the way he’s moving and the soft sounds escaping despite the hand to muffle them.

He can feel the cock in his hand pulsing and just as the music reaches its climax, so does Ed. His hips jerk forward against Roy’s hand and he comes with a cry that, mercifully, is masked in the pitch of the music, but Roy can feel it vibrating through Ed’s entire body.

Ed’s head falls back against Roy’s shoulder and he’s panting again, harder this time, and whimpering softly as Roy continues stroking his dick until Ed begs him to stop because he can’t stand the overstimulation anymore.

Roy goes for his handkerchief again, cleaning himself and Ed up as well as he can, and he tucks Ed back into his trousers just as the final note of the song rings out and the theater erupts in thunderous applause. Roy doesn’t think Ed could lift his hands even if he tried. Roy presses more soft kisses to his neck and claps around him, even though he’s not paying attention to the curtain call at all. The performance, of course, was incredible but Ed is more incredible still.

He lets Ed sit and breathe for awhile after the lights come up. Roy has learned that it’s better to wait until most of the crowd has cleared out anyway to avoid the foot traffic. Ed feels mostly boneless in his arms, wrung out and used up, and he’s absolutely stunning.

He turns in Roy’s arms finally, looping an arm around his neck and dragging him in for another kiss, this one warm and tired. Roy keeps it gentle, smoothing his hand down Ed’s back to soothe him and press him just a little bit closer.

When the ushers start filing into the theater floor below to clean up after the crowd, Roy reluctantly urges Ed to his feet. He’s steady when he stands, but Roy can’t resist wrapping an arm around his waist anyway. He’s blissed out and docile, quiet and compliant, and Roy thinks they’ll probably have just enough time to make it back to the car before the afterglow wears off and Ed’s back to normal.

Not that he’d have it any other way.

“Did you enjoy the show, General Mustang?” the attendant in the hallway asks as he guides Ed towards the staircase.

“It was exquisite, as always. Do give my compliments to the cast if you happen to run across them,” Roy says. “I think even Edward enjoyed himself, and he’s no great fan of theater.” Ed goes red beside him but nods anyway, and the attendant seems satisfied with them and heads off to tidy his box as he and Ed make for the doors.

The night air is cool compared to the warmth of the theater, and he and Ed take their time picking their way back to the car. The chill seems to invigorate Ed, and he’s not so boneless and soft by the time they reach the parking lot. Ever the gentleman, Roy opens Ed’s door first and ushers him inside before getting into the driver’s seat and putting the keys into the ignition.

“So,” Ed says as he starts the car. “When does the next show open?”

“If you’d like,” Roy purrs, “I can give you a show when we get home.”

“Oh yeah? Think you got it in you to get me off a third time? We’re not as young as we used to be, you know. ‘Specially not you.”

“Edward, you’re twenty four,” Roy says flatly.

“Yeah, and you’re almost for—“

This time it’s Roy’s turn to grab a fistful of Ed’s shirt and haul him forward into a bruising kiss, licking that horrible, horrible number straight out of his mouth. Ed’s breathless and flushed again when he finally pulls away. “Does that answer your question?”

“What question?”

Roy smirks. “I’d say I have it in me to get you off again.”

“Yeah, well.” Ed’s fighting to catch his breath. “Prove it.”

Roy puts the car in gear and begins to plot exactly how he’ll do it.


End file.
